Nothing to do that Weekend
by demonbarber14
Summary: A fanfic of "North by Northwest" exploring Eve's past decisions that led to her meeting with Thornhill. Rated M for safety.
1. Chapter 1

Eve Kendall took a deep breath as the elevator doors opened. No matter how many parties she went to, they always made her excited. She loved the free drinks, the possibility of meeting new people, and, most importantly, an excuse to buy a new dress and maybe even pair of shoes. Eve straightened her shoulders and put on the smile she had become so used to giving, polite, yet forthcoming, and even a tiny bit flirty. She opened the apartment door and was greeted with the familiar smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol. She quickly scanned the crowd and was relieved that she wasn't the only person there under the age of thirty-five. She accepted an hors d'oeuvres from a tray offered by a Peter Lorre lookalike, and gave a perfunctory wave to the hostess, Miss Griffith. Under the guise of politeness and wanting to meet everybody, she maneuvered through a maze of people and eventually got to the bar. She had a sip of her martini and took a cigarette out of her purse. Since she had brought her tiny, dressy purse, there hadn't been room for a lighter, but that was never a problem at parties.

"Pardon me, would you happen to have a match?" she asked the man standing nearest to her.

"Yes, of course". He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small gold lighter. He lit it and Eve moved in, cupping her hand around his to steady herself while she touched the end of her cigarette to the flame. As she did so, she got a good look at him. He was not traditionally handsome, but there was something undeniably attractive about him. Clearly much older than she, he seemed as though he had a lifetime of experience behind him, with those great, sad eyes of his. His voice, though; God, his low voice with a hint of an English accent made her knees crumble and made the rest of her feel as though she were being made love to. She knew she wouldn't have looked at him twice if it weren't for his voice and his lighter.

"I don't believe we've met," he continued once he put the lighter away. "My name is Philip Vandamm." He offered her his hand, which she shook, noticing a lack of a wedding ring.

"I'm Eve Kendall." In a split second, she decided how to proceed with him and gave her best bedroom smile, a coy look in her eyes and a sly quirk in her mouth. Judging by the smile he gave in return, she had gotten the message across.

"And how do you happen to know Miss Griffith, Miss Kendall?"

"She was friend of my godfather's. What about you?"

"My niece is, um, very good friends with her daughter, so my sister and I have spent a lot of time with them over the years. My sister couldn't make it tonight, and my niece is away, so here I am."

"I see. And what do you do, Mr. Vandamm?"

"I'm in the exporting business, I'm sorry to say"

"Sorry because you dislike it?"

"Sorry because it's not exactly the sort of job one likes to admit to having, especially when one is at a party"

"Then I gather you don't do the exporting yourself?"

"No, my travels never extend beyond the states. I'm what you'd call a middleman. What is it that you do?"

"I'm an industrial designer."

"Oh, that sounds fascinating. What sort of things do you design?"

"I do household appliances, mostly. I haven't actually come up with any designs on my own yet, I just work in a design team, so it's sometimes very easy to get bogged down by politics. It pays the bills, though, gives me plenty of free time, and I enjoy the creative side of it, so I really have no right to complain. How long have you worked at exporting?"

She smiled once more and watched him as he talked. She wanted him. She'd been told often enough that her face and figure could get her any man she wanted, and it had been true enough when it came to the boys she had tried it out on. _This one, though_, she pondered as she watched him gesticulate softly with his champagne glass. He seemed much too confident and self-assured to find her irresistible. She could just picture the scene; his disentangling himself from her arms, a patronizing smile on his face, as he told her how "flattered" he was and suggested that she "might want to find someone her own age" or "someone who could appreciate her". God, he probably wouldn't even be embarrassed by it, and just go right on talking. At least she could assume he was unmarried, anyone who mentioned a sister before a wife usually was. Unless he was unhappily married, of course, in which case she may even have a better chance with him.

He continued to ask her questions about herself, which she normally appreciated, but with Philip, she found herself trying so hard to be clever that she couldn't focus on his marvelously sad eyes or her strategies for having him that night. She answered gamely, though, and felt herself get even more lost in voice.

"Come along everybody! Dinner's just about ready" came the shrill voice of Miss Griffith.

"If you're interested in art" Philip murmured to her as they were herded towards the dining table "I have a rather large collection. Perhaps you ought to come by and see it sometime."

"Oh, I'd love to" she tried to suppress an eager grin.

"Marvelous." He gave her another small smile as they reached the table.

Most of the guests had already been seated and Eve noticed with a stab of frustration that there weren't two free seats together. Worst of all, on closer inspection, there were embossed name cards on each plate. Not only did she want to keep talking to him, but she had also entertained fantasies about how wonderful his hand would feel working its way up her thigh.

"Now, Eve, I've put you in between Mr. Lamb and Mrs. Caldritch, I know you'll just be _crazy_ about them." Miss Griffith cooed.

"Oh yes, I'm sure"

Eve sat between the two throughout dinner and was able to lose herself in the chatter about Mrs. Caldritch's children and the nefarious tactics the Russians were going to use to destroy the American way of life, whatever that meant. She and Philip exchanged glances a few times, but not enough to attract attention, let alone suspicious. After an agonizingly long time, dessert was cleared away and everyone started offering his or her goodbyes. She fidgeted in frustration as she glimpsed Philip shaking hands with their hostess, as she was stuck with Mrs. Caldritch wrapping up a story about her hairdresser. By the time Eve reached Miss Griffith, though, she was delighted to see Phillip still hanging back by the door. Anyone else in that position would have looked awkward, but Phillip looked so comfortable, giving final handshakes to other departing guests, and calmly smoking his cigarette, that she wondered if he was waiting for her after all.

Eve gave him a sidelong glance as she prepared to leave, and felt her heart being to beat faster than usual when he followed her out the door and into the elevator.

"Miss Kendall, I live just a few blocks away, and I was wondering if it might be convenient for you to come to my place tonight and I can show you my art collection."

"Oh, yes, I'd love to! If you're sure it wouldn't be a problem." she smiled, attempting to hide her blush and the squeak that had come into her voice.

"It's no trouble at all, really. I can fix you a drink, if you like. I make an absolutely splendid Old Fashioned."

"Yes please, I still haven't had enough to drown out the memory of sitting next to Mrs. Caldritch for the entire dinner."

He laughed before hailing a taxi with graceful flick of his wrist. He opened the door for her, and settled in beside her as he gave the driver his address.

She wondered if he was going to make a move in the cab, and as a way of silently giving him permission, she rested her leg against his as he sat down. He didn't respond, but he didn't move his leg either. It wasn't a long cab ride, and they spent most of it complaining about their dinner partners. The building they reached at the end of the drive was one of the grandest Eve had ever seen. There was a balcony for every window, and even in the dark of the night she could see the gold rails shine. They encountered a doorman as they walked up the marble stairs, and Phillip returned his gracious tip of the hat and wished him a good evening.

His apartment was what she would have expected from him. It was sparsely decorated, but the furniture was obviously carefully chosen and expensive. Paintings covered the walls and small sculptures decorated the few available surfaces, but they did not detract from the overall feel of total sophistication. She sat on the long red couch in the middle of the room while he made her his famous Old Fashioned.

When she first arrived in New York, she would have been more wary of so much wealth, but she had become used to the idea of people making money without actually doing anything. She was mildly curious, though.

"I didn't know the exporting business paid so well. I'm beginning to think I'm in the wrong line of work."

He smiled and handed her the drink. "Well, you see, it all depends on what you're exporting"

"And what _do_ you export?"

"Everything." He sat on the couch next to her and clinked his glass against hers.

"You know," she said, taking a sip, "I'm not usually the type of girl who goes to strange men's apartments in the middle of the night."

"Oh? What type of girl are you then?"

"Wouldn't you like to find out?"

She knew it was a stupid line, much too obvious, but just looking at him was overpowering. She needed to know if he wanted her too.

He gave a small chuckle. "And how do you want me to go about doing that, I wonder?"

"You could start by kissing me."

Still smiling, he leaned forward and gave her an experimental peck on the lips.

"Was that a good enough start?"

She nodded and he kissed her again, this time letting his tongue explore her mouth and his fingers get tangled in her hair. She did the same to him, glad that her bold move was so well received. He was a good kisser, forceful without being demanding. There was nothing she hated as much as men trying to grope or grind against her while kissing her.

"Well" she sighed after they disentangled themselves.

"Eve, you do realize I am quite a bit older than you."

"Yes, I know. Now kiss me again"

She leaned forward and he partly obliged her by gently nipping at her jaw and chin.

"How old are you, anyhow?" he asked, badly feigning casualness.

"Twenty-five. What about you?"

"Fifty"

"Really? That seems very lucky." She tugged gently on his tie and kissed him again, this time pressing her body close to his.

"Why don't you finish your drink and I'll show you the rest of the flat."

"And what room shall we start with?"

"Well, the bedroom is very nearby."

"That would make it the logical choice, then". She kissed him once more before setting her glass aside. "I'm afraid I'm not very thirsty anymore."

"Well then, we may as well get started." With that, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders, hooked the other between her knees, and carried her into the bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

"Philip, that was _won_derful."

Eve stretched and rested her hand against his chest. "You don't mind if I stay the night, do you? I'm exhausted."

"You don't have to ask, I'd love for you to stay."

"And may I take a bath?"

"Yes, of course. Why don't you use the guest bathroom; It's right through there." He made a vague gesture towards the hallway.

She stood up and took a few wobbly steps to the bathroom. Out of habit, she quickly scanned the room for any feminine articles, but luckily, there were none. She drew herself a bath and took advantage of his bath salts, a small luxury she never had at home but always planned on having 'one day'. She sank deeper into the tub and idly scrubbed between her legs. It had been fantastic; it was one of the best experiences in the bedroom she'd had, and was certainly the best time she'd had with someone she'd never been with before. Usually she wasn't even able to orgasm with someone the first time, let alone be able to come four times like she did with Philip.

She washed her hair and returned to the bedroom wrapped in a towel, right as Philip emerged from his own bathroom, clearly just having taken a shower. He put his arms around her and gave her a light kiss on the forehead. "Let's get you something to wear, all right?"

"Yes, I'd hate to die of hypothermia after such a nice night." She joked while he rummaged through his dresser drawer.

"Why don't you take my top half?" He handed her a light blue and white pajama top that matched the drawstring trousers he was wearing.

She accepted it and let the towel drop to the floor before putting it on.

"This is nice."

"Thank you, but I really can't take any credit. My secretary gave them to me."

"Your secretary?"

He laughed, clearly seeing through her attempt at sounding casual.

"Yes, his name is Leonard."

She grinned and they went back to bed together. He curled up next to her, running his hand through her hair and kissing her forehead and nose.

"You're very pretty, you know. Have I told you that yet?"

"I don't think so, but thank you. You're not so bad looking yourself."

"Well, I'll take that as a compliment." He rolled over and grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a matchbox from his night table. "Would you like one?"

"Sure. I'm always thinking about quitting, but the post-coital cigarette is practically a sacred tradition."

"Oh, I agree completely."

He put both cigarettes in his mouth and lit them before handing one to her. She cuddled next to him and took a slow drag feeling warmer and more relaxed than she could remember.

Eve opened her eyes slowly, disoriented at waking up in a strange room to the sound of a strange alarm.

"I'm sorry, darling" Philip half-whispered to her as he turned the alarm off. "You can go back to sleep if you like, it's only 9:00."

"No, th-that's all right" Eve mumbled as she slowly rose from the bed. "I'm awake."

"Well, then, I shall make you some breakfast if you want."

"You don't have to do that. You've already been so good to me."

"Nonsense. Now, what would you like?" He gently patted her thigh. "I was thinking of making myself an omelet if that sounds appealing to you." She nodded.

"All right, then. Go back to bed and I'll wake you when they're finished." He smoothed her hair and gave her a quick peck on the forehead.

He left the room and she smiled, fixing her hair as best she could. She told herself to not get excited about him. She had been with enough men to know that Philip's calling her "darling" was meaningless, and that just because he was older, he wasn't necessarily going to treat her any better than the other men she had known. There was also the fact that he was in his fifties and unmarried; that couldn't be a good sign. She quelled her doubts when he called her in for breakfast. He was a handsome man who wanted to spend time with her. There was nothing wrong with that and it certainly wasn't the sort of thing to overthink. In fact, it was just what she needed. Or rather, she admitted to herself, just what she wanted.

"Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?" he asked.

"Well, I was hoping to go back to my apartment and get something to wear other than my cocktail dress, but that's it. Did you have anything in mind?"

"I was thinking we could see a movie or go to The MET or something along those lines."

"That sounds perfect, Philip."

Her omelet was so burned that it looked more brown than yellow, but she ate it vigorously, unable to remember the last time a man had cooked for her. They took a cab to her apartment and she changed into a more appropriate sundress. She had been embarrassed to show him where she lived, but if he'd had any preconceived ideas of great wealth on her part, he didn't let his surprise show. He even took the time to ask about certain pieces of furniture, the story behind her bedside lamp and the little pastel on her wall. He called her beautiful and twirled her around a few times when she showed him her dress. He even sat with her while she put her makeup on and complimented her on finding such a perfect shade of pink lipstick. They spent the entire day together, first going to the MET, then having dinner at Sheldon's, one of the more expensive restaurants in the city. The MET had given them a discount on their tickets, since Philip had donated five paintings to them, and Sheldon's had given them the best table, as he seemed to know everyone who worked there, from the coat check girl, to Sheldon himself, who paid them a visit. Eve had never known someone so wealthy before, and took advantage of his generosity by ordering both an appetizer and a main course, along with a glass of champagne.

They returned to his apartment that night and he finally showed her his art collection. Every piece was original and had all been displayed at museums at some point. They made love again, and it was even better than the first time. As Eve curled up against him, she realized that she hadn't felt a trace of guilt throughout the entire evening. She nuzzled her head against his arm, wanting to enjoy every inch of him for as long as possible, unsure whether it was because she knew she would lose him or because she knew he was hers.

"I had a wonderful time tonight, Phillip," she murmured.

"As it happens, so did I." He shifted his position on the bed so that she could rest her head against his chest. He even smelled elegant somehow, an irresistible blend of cologne and sweat.

"Are you free tomorrow?"

"Yes, as it happens, I'm completely free. Is there anything special you want to do?"

"Nothing in particular. We can come up with something."

"I think we can manage that." He kissed the top of her head while she finished her cigarette.


	3. Chapter 3

She didn't deserve him. She knew men like him were reserved for the good girls; girls who had waited all their lives for such a perfect man, or at least girls who had only been led astray before promptly repenting and never making the same mistakes again. Men like him didn't waste their time with girls like her for more than a night; she had seen enough movies to know that.

Her thoughts came to a halt when he began stroking her hair. Then, they changed direction. He probably wasn't perfect either, and even if he was, there was no reason she couldn't have him. After all, what had she really done? She hadn't killed anyone, never willingly broke a heart; what did it matter if she had fallen from virtue multiple times. It had never hurt anyone. Even if there had been wives involved, they didn't necessarily find out, and who was to say their husbands wouldn't have cheated with someone else. Maybe Phillip would be the salvation she needed, the one to make her stop, to make her realize what she had been missing all those years. She would probably have to love him first, though. That shouldn't be too hard. He was attractive, polite, attentive, and utterly fantastic in the bedroom. _Not to mention rich_ said the little voice in her head, which she despised.

She really didn't know if she loved him or not, but she knew it was closest she had ever come to the feeling in a long time. She wanted to tell him, needed to tell him, but he was already asleep and she was starting to fade in and out of consciousness. She cuddled closer and decided to tell him the next day, and in the nicest way possible.

"Hi, Phillip". She stood in the doorway connecting the bedroom to the living room. He looked so heart achingly adorable sitting in his armchair reading the paper and wearing a bathrobe. And his glasses. She had never seen him wear them before, since he would only hold them against his face when reading a menu, and they made her heart seize up for an instant. They made him look fragile and quite a few years older.

"Hello, darling. Did you sleep well last night?"

She nodded and walked over to him. "Are you busy?" she asked, delicately pinching the top of his newspaper with her perfectly manicured nails.

"No, as luck would have it, I'm not."

"Good."

She lifted the paper from his hands and slid onto his lap, straddling him tightly. She kissed him deeply, her tongue sliding in and out of his mouth and her fingers running through his hair. When she finally pulled away, he gave her a bemused smile.

"You know, darling, I'm really very flatt-" as he spoke, he reached for his glasses, but she grabbed his hand and pressed it against her breast.

"Keep them on, Phillip, they make you so attractive." She leaned forward and took his earlobe between his teeth, flicking it with her tongue.

"Really?" He gently squeezed her breast.

She nodded and kissed him again.

"They make you look very" she brushed his hair back and kissed his nose "distinguished. It's like getting to live out all the teenage fantasies I had about my teachers."

"Well, if that's the case, I shall have to wear them more often."

"Oh, please do"

She kissed him deeply on the lips and pressed her body against his. He broke the kiss in order to suck on her neck, making her gasp and clench her fists.

"Do you enjoy that?"

She nodded. "It's my weakness."

"Really?" he asked softly before redoubling his efforts. He kissed and sucked at her neck, even lightly scraping his teeth against it, until she felt as though she were about to burst from the heat between her legs. As if he knew what she was thinking, he cupped that particular spot in his hand and squeezed it, making her yelp one more time.

"That certainly is your weakness. You've soaked through these pajama bottoms."

"Philip, I don't think I can make it to the bedroom"

"Neither can I, though this will require some pretty expert maneuvering"

"_Ex_cellent" she murmured.

Eve opened her eyes slowly; unsure of whether she had fallen asleep. She was lying across Philip's lap, with her pajama bottoms on the floor and her top half-unbuttoned. She meant to say something to him, she meant to say so many things to him, but all that could come out was a tiny groan. His hand languidly traveled up her back and he gave her neck a gentle squeeze. The comforting feel of his hand made her groan a little louder and she pressed her face against his chest.

"All right, darling, time to get up"

They both struggled to their feet and she felt no embarrassment about standing in front of him wearing nothing but a top that left her breasts exposed and barely covered her crotch.

"Would you like me to draw you a bath?"

She nodded, her body still unable to do much else. He picked her up, making her squeal and shake off some of her drowsiness. He carried her into the bathroom, settled her in the tub, and sat on the edge to help wash her hair.

"You know, this is loveliest morning I've ever had," she told him, when she finally regained the capacity to speak.

"Well, we'll just have to make sure the rest of the day lives up to it, don't we?"

She smiled as he continued to massage her scalp.


	4. Chapter 4

When Eve moved to New York, she fell out of contact with many of her friends, and much as she liked the other women at the office, part of her always saw them as competition. With such a lack of female friends, she was overjoyed, albeit a little nervous when Philip invited her to spend an afternoon with his sister and niece. Her palms were sweaty by the time they reached the front door, but here fears were dispelled when Claire Vandamm emerged from the house.

"Philip, daring!" Claire ran down the front steps to meet them. Eve hadn't known what to expect, so Claire's appearance was at one surprising and completely expected. She was very much the hostess type; thick red (in spite of her age) hair piled atop her head, a conservative yet colorful print dress that showed off an obviously well cared for body. She held Philip at arm's length as she admired him. "Oh, that suit looks marvelous on you!" She quickly turned and shook Eve's hand. "And Eve, how _won_derful to finally meet you! Oh, do come inside." Eve smiled when she noted that Claire and Philip had very similar interior decorating tastes. The furnishing wasn't quite so sparse, but it was just as elegant. They sat in the living room and Eve was flattered by all the questions that Claire asked her. Philip had obviously kept her informed, since she knew the name of Eve's boss, what project she was working on, and that she hadn't liked _Redhead_ as much as Philip or Claire had. After about half and hour, Claire's daughter Mandy burst in. She was an extraordinary sight. She wore blue jeans with a pink plaid top and her hair was cut short and shaved on one side.

"Hey, Uncle Philip!"

"Now, what do you mean 'Hey uncle Philip'? I was supposed to be a surprise. I even parked up the street so you wouldn't know I was here."

She shrugged. "No one else here has a car like that. Plus, the license plate has a 41 in it, which I always remember 'cause it's my birth year. Sorry, James Bond" she hugged him tightly. "Still good to see you, though. And you" she turned to Eve "you the uh fash-industrial designer, yeah?"

"Um, yes, yes I am"

"Is that like making stuff look cool so people will buy them?"

"Why yes, I suppose you could put it like that."

"That sounds really neat. Kinda hard, though. Like I feel like there are only a certain number of things you can do with something, y' know?"

"Yes, I know what you're saying, and it can be difficult sometimes to come up with a new idea without making it somehow less functional."

"Yeah, you must be mad creative."

"Well, I'm not sure I would quite go that far, but thank you."

"Yeah." Mandy nodded pensively. "Hey, Uncle Philip, you wanna see Charlie? I can prob'ly find him for you."

"That would be marvelous. He always seems rather dispirited when I visit and you're not around."

"'Kay, then!" she beamed before dashing to her room.

"Oh, Claire" Philip patted his sister's knee "you know I think college has given her an extra sort of spark."

Eve smiled to herself. It was true that he was a bit old, but if they started right away, there was no reason he couldn't be an excellent father. Eve had never particularly wanted children, but it was comforting to know that if she and Philip got really serious, it would be an option. _Really serious _she thought, surprised by the turn her mind had taken. She shifted her glance to the fireplace, embarrassed, as though he and Claire could suddenly read her mind. Marriage hadn't occurred to her, at least not as it related to Philip. There was no reason it couldn't happen, though. He was rich and he adored her. His frequent business trips would be inconvenient, but if she kept her job she wouldn't be lonely without him.

"Got 'im!" Mandy called before she reappeared a few moments later, cradling a fat, black and white cat in her arms. "I think he's just jealous being around you since he's so used ta' being the only man around the house." She handed Charlie off to Philip who stroked him idly as the four of them continued to talk. Eve was somewhat amused when she realized that Philip touched Charlie the way he touched her. It was the same distracted rubbing and stroking that she had grown so used to during the last few weeks whenever they went to a movie or play together.

There was something adorable about watching Philip with his family. They were all so animated and obviously glad to be in each other's company that the feeling was infectious and Eve didn't feel like an outsider. She was almost sad to leave them after dinner, and promised both Claire and Mandy that if she ever needed anything while Philip was out of town, she would call them for help.

Philip continued beaming as they pulled out of the driveway and Eve couldn't remember a time when she was so sure about him, and about them. She decided to ask him, not about marrying her specifically, but a general question about whether the state of matrimony was one that he would ever consider entering. The meaning of the question would be obvious enough and even if the answer was no, he could break it to her gently enough so that she wouldn't be hurt.

"Philip"

"Yes, dear?"

She took a breath, then, as Mandy would have said, chickened.

"I love you."

"Why thank you, darling." He took one hand off the steering wheel and put it against the back of her neck. "I love you too". She smiled and lightly rested her head on her shoulder while he massaged her neck. That was really all she needed from him.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hello, this is Eve Kendall speaking."

"Hello, darling. How are you?"

"Well, Mr. Thompson liked my new sketches, so the week is off to a good start, at least. How are you doing?"

"Perfectly well. Now listen, darling, I know this is rather sudden, but do you have any plans for this weekend?"

"No, what did you have in mind?"

"I have some business to attend to in Palm Springs, so I wondered if you wanted to come with me."

"Oh, Philip, of c-"

"Now, before you say yes, I have to warn you that there might not be much for you to do, unless you have an abiding passion for golf and swimming that you've been keeping from me. Also, it is a business trip, so we won't be together the entire time, especially since my famous secretary is coming along."

"Philip, it sounds perfect. What's the weather like?"

"In the thirties, I should guess. Or should I say the eighties, using your ridiculous Yankee system."

Eve laughed as she glanced at the snow flurries outside her window. "I just hope my old bathing suit still fits."

"Well, if it doesn't, I shall buy you one the instant we reach town."

He and his secretary, Leonard, picked her up on Friday evening and drove to the airport, where Eve was somewhat unsurprised to find a private plane waiting for them.

"Oh, Philip, is it yours?"

"Oh no, it's a sort of a timeshare." He squeezed her shoulder. "I'm not that rich yet."

"I've never been in a private plane before."

"I think you'll be able to get the hang of it soon enough."

She was indeed able to get the hang of it and before long, was settled on the couch with a martini in her hand. She stroked Philip's hair and they talked idly, she about her job, and he about what Palm Springs held in store for her. Unsurprisingly, he failed to mention exactly what business he had there. She had long since given up asking him what he actually did, assuming that it was either too dull or too convoluted to be discussed. It was an enjoyable thought; he didn't want to taint their time together by talking about work.

Leonard was busy working in another area of the plane for the duration of the flight. When he finally emerged, he half-whispered to Philip some information that Eve couldn't make heads or tails of anyway before sitting down at the couch opposite them. Eve tried talking to him, but he seemed utterly unwilling to give her more than the bare minimum of information he could get away with, so that once his family situation, place of origin, and how long he had worked for Philip had been established, there was little else to say to him.

"We're married, in case anyone asks" Philip informed her as the three of them made their way to the front desk. "I know California has a reputation for being liberal, but it would still, shall we say, draw unnecessary attention to ourselves if we made our status clear."

"I understand. Is it our honeymoon?"

"Yes, I think it is. Rotten luck having our wedding nearly ruined by all that snow."

"Dreadful. I do hope Uncle Harold doesn't cut me out of the will."

She held his arm and remembered the other hotel affairs she'd had as "Mrs. Smith". This time felt so different, though, and it wasn't just because of the price tag. They weren't two kids desperate for any opportunity to rip each other's clothes off; they were two adults who simply had to tell a lie in order to share a room. A porter led them upstairs and Eve fell onto the bed without even removing her shoes, glad to be rid of everything, from Leonard to the New York snow. She was comforted to know that all hotel bed sheets had the same clean, stiff feeling to them.

"Are you tired, darling?"

"Not really" she rolled onto her back and held out her arms "I want to start our honeymoon."

He smiled before removing his jacket and tie.

Eve slept in all the next morning and since Philip's business meeting had evidently been short, they were able to spend the rest of the day together. Palm Springs was an almost surreal place to be, especially in February. The low, yellow buildings, the palm trees, and the heat were so different from anything in New York at that time of year, it was a wonder the two places were on the same planet, let alone country. They went into every bookshop and clothing store and he bought her a new bikini, even though she didn't really need one, two sundresses, three books, and a pair of red sunglasses. Later, she would hate herself for accepting his presents so easily, but at that moment, she felt too lucky and in love to mind.

She held on to Philip's arm tighter than she did at home, reveling in the impossibility of running into any of her, or his, friends and having to come up with awkward explanations. Calling him a friend would lead to suspicion, and calling him a boyfriend seemed ridiculous, considering his age. In the mountain-lined desert oasis, though, it didn't seem to matter. He even took her dancing after dinner, though the endeavor was cut short due to their mutual ineptitude.

He didn't have any other business meetings, so they spent the whole next day together as well. They rode in the tram, went swimming in the hotel pool, and, in proper honeymoon fashion, made love twice. He couldn't manage it the usual way the second time, but instead of becoming frustrated, he used his tongue instead. When he was done, she nestled close to him and gently bit on his earlobe.

"You know, I've had such a good time that I hate to go back to New York. I've never been on such a wonderful vacation before."

"Neither have I, which is rather remarkable for a business trip."

"Do you have to go on a lot of business trips?" she asked with exaggerated casualness as she started playing with his chest hair.

"Yes, very often"

"And I suppose you must be terribly lonely when you do."

"Well, Leonard isn't exactly the best company." He kissed the top of her head. "I can't promise Palm Springs every time, but you're always welcome to come along."

"I'd like that. Where have you been to before?"

"Nearly everywhere." He lit cigarettes for the two of them and handed one to her. She puffed placidly as he told her stories about the cab drivers he'd had, the businessmen he'd dealt with, and the philosophical bartenders he'd known. In return, she told him about five star hotels with vermin problems, cheap motels that sold the most fantastic muffins, and the road trips in which she'd been forced to sleep in her car. Those were Eve's favorite moments, the slow, meandering pillow talk. She could never remember most of it in the morning, but they were the times she felt closest to him, exchanging all the tiny moments that made up their lives.

The next nine months were heaven for Eve. She went to Philip's apartment every weekend she could, and on days when she was too swamped with work to leave her place, he would visit her and read on the couch for hours on end while she tried to come up with ways of making vacuum cleaners look "sleek and sexy". There were days when her work took her so long that he fell asleep on her couch, and some nights she was so exhausted that it took every ounce of her energy to take off her shoes and join him hours later. On weekends, though, they saw more Broadway shows and art exhibits than either one could keep track of, and made a comprehensive tour of major American cities during his business trips and visits to his various houses scattered around the globe. They saw Claire and Mandy at least once a month, and Eve grew to love them both almost as much as she loved Philip. She also got along with two of his friends, Valerian and Licht. She gathered that they were his secretaries, but unlike Leonard, they didn't constantly hover over Philip. She especially liked Valerian, a tall, muscular young man, who was just the type she would have gone for before she met Philip. He was married and constantly showing off pictures of his plump little daughter. Even Mandy had become a valuable companion; she was able to give Eve candid opinions, and Eve could give her helpful advice on girls. For the first time, she had a real group of friends in New York, and she spent as much time with them as possible.


	6. Chapter 6

One morning, Eve woke up next to Philip and felt an uncomfortable wetness between her legs. _Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no_. She got out of bed slowly and assessed the damage. She cursed internally when she saw the dark red patch on her nightgown, and cursed under her breath when she saw a similar stain on Philip's sheets. She bit her fingernail and quickly grabbed a sanitary pad from her purse and a pair of underwear from the drawer Philip had given her the use of. She cleaned herself off and was about to get dressed, when she felt the first stabs of pain. She gasped slightly and pressed her hand against her stomach, hoping that it wouldn't be one of _those_ days. The next wave of pain told her it would be, as she steadied herself against the sink. She breathed as slowly as possible, wondering what she should do next. Before long, she heard Philip's alarm go off. She wanted him to help her, but at the same time, didn't want to be embarrassed. As pain sliced through her again, however, she knew that she had to do something. If worst came to worst, she wanted him to be around in case she fainted. She opened the door and saw Philip getting dressed. He glanced up and walked towards her as she leaned weakly against the doorframe.

"Is everything all right, darling? You look dreadfully pale."

"I'm fine. It's just that time of the month. It can hit a little hard sometimes. I'm afraid I might have gotten some blood on your sheets as well. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about that, love" he cupped her face in his hand. "Do you have everything you need in terms of sanitary supplies?"

She nodded, nuzzling her head against his hand and trying not to cry.

"All right, then. What would make you feel better? Would you like to take a bath?"

"I don't know. I feel a little nauseous. I think I just need to sit down for a few minutes, then I'll feel better."

She sat down cross-legged, the bathroom tiles cold against her legs. After a few dizzying seconds, she turned and leaned her head over the toilet, coughing and retching violently. Philip reacted immediately and crouched beside her, holding her hair with one hand and stroking her shoulder blades with the other. She felt herself vomit and started to cry at the pain, the embarrassment, and the sting of bile in her mouth.

"Don't cry, darling. You're all right, everything's all right." He continued comforting her as she threw up twice more. When her stomach was entirely empty, he let go of her and helped wipe her face with a wet towel.

"There, now. Feeling better, darling?"

"I think so. A little, at least. I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be silly, darling, it happens. I've got a sister, I know. Now, what would make you feel better?"

"I would like to take a bath now, I think."

"Good. You do that while I change the sheets and then the two of us will just take it easy for the rest of the day; how does that strike you?"

"Sounds nice."

He kissed her forehead and helped her to her feet before she undressed and bathed. It did make her feel marginally better, though she still had to keep both hands firmly pressed on her stomach to keep the blinding pain away. Philip came back after about half an hour and led her back into the bedroom. She curled into a fetal position on the bed and he stayed with her, rubbing her head and her upper back whenever she groaned out loud. Soon, she was too comforted by him to feel embarrassed, and eventually fell asleep with him lying next to her. She felt far better when she woke up and was even able to eat half the sandwich Philip had brought her from her favorite deli. They watched television together for a few hours and by dinnertime she was able to go to a restaurant with him. As he idly stroked her knee under the table, she thought about how lucky she was and wished that everyone on earth could be half as happy as she.


	7. Chapter 7

Three weeks later, Eve woke up to the sound of her phone ringing. First she was annoyed at having her Sunday sleeping-in interrupted, but she quickly cheered up when she realized the call was probably from Philip. He was in Chicago, and she missed him more than usual.

"Hello" she answered the phone as brightly as she could, not wanting Philip to know that he had woken her.

"Hello, Miss Kendall." Eve frowned at the unfamiliar voice, suddenly feeling ashamed of the overly friendly tone she had used.

"Who is this?"

"You don't know me, but I have something very important to discuss with you."

"I'm sorry, I don't-"

"It involves your friend Vandamm."

"Oh" was all she could say, her thoughts too muddied and confused to come up with something better. If he was in trouble, though, she was certainly going to…

"Now, don't try to call him, at least not until you've heard what we have to say."

"All right."

"Can you see the black car outside your window?"

"Yes."

"I want you to get dressed and get inside it."

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm sure this is very important, but I don't make a habit of getting into strange cars because of a mysterious voice on my phone. If there's something you wish to tell Mr. Vandamm, I'm sure you would have a lot more luck calling him. I don't know how you got my number, but please don't bother me again."

"Miss Kendall, I work with United States Intelligence. If you will just go outside, the man in the car will show you all the necessary badges and paperwork."

"Oh." She was left speechless again for a few moments. "All right."

She got dressed hastily, and could feel her heart thudding and her forehead breaking out into a cold sweat. The mixture of fear and curiosity also left her feeling more than a little nauseous. She walked to the car as haughtily as she could, in order to make up for the indignity of being dragged out bed so early in the day. A tall, stocky man standing outside the car did show her his badge and it certainly looked official.

"There's nothing to worry about, ma'am. We're just going to ask a few questions, that's all."

The cliché made her want to laugh and cry at the same time.

"I don't suppose you could tell me what's going on."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I'll leave that up to the Professor."

"Oh, I see. And I suppose this Professor was the one I talked to earlier."

"Yes ma'am."

"I'm sorry to tell you, this is all probably going to be a big waste of time."

"That's all right, ma'am. We just need you answer a few questions."

"Yes, you mentioned that."

She stared out the window, jiggling her ankle. They reached their destination, a nondescript office building, in a mercifully short amount of time. Eve felt her knees shaking as she walked into the building and into the elevator with the uncommunicative agent. She followed him down a seemingly endless hallway and into a large office. There was a tiny older man sitting behind a desk and he greeted her with a small smile. "Won't you take a seat, my dear?" It was the same voice she had heard on the phone, and the man who possessed it certainly looked like a professor. She sat on a long couch and gazed at him as levelly as possible.

"Now, I suppose you're wondering what this is all about."

"Not really, I enjoy suspense. May I have a cigarette? I read the 'No smoking' sign, but after that slight bit of kidnapping, I think you owe it to me."

"Go ahead, if it will make you feel better."

She made a concentrated effort to light her cigarette in one try; nothing betrayed fear quite like a few botched attempts with a lighter. She succeeded and took a long drag. It did help calm her nerves and she settled onto the couch.

"Miss Kendall, how long have you known Philip Vandamm?"

"About a year at this point"

"I see. Now in that time, how much has he told you about his work."

"Nothing, really. It's not as though there's any reason to. He's taken me on a few business trips with him, but I gather most of his job is just too boring or complicated for me to be interested in."

"What exactly did he tell you he does for a living?"

She felt her body stiffen at the word 'tell'.

"Exporting."

The Professor gave a small chuckle. "Well, at least he told you part of the truth anyway."

"Professor, will you _please_ tell me what's going on?"

"Miss Kendall, there is no other way for me to say this, but your friend Vandamm is nothing more than a common spy."

"What?"

"Yes, I'm afraid the only exporting he does is handing over government secrets to the communists. For a large price, of course. I'm sure you've wondered how he was able to afford his multiple houses and cars, or did he have an excuse for that too?"

"I—I just assumed that government jobs paid very well."

"No, my dear. As you can see, United States government doesn't exactly keep its employees in the height of luxury."

"It's not true. It—it just can't be" she felt her eyes start to sting with tears and hated herself for it.

"I can show you the evidence if you like" he gestured to the folder on his desk.

"No" she shook her head. "Why are you telling me this? If you have the evidence, why can't you arrest him if that's what you want? I'm sure he has an explanation for everything."

"It's not that simple, unfortunately. You see, there are many others like him who can easily take his place. We want to find out more about him. We want to know what it is he's taking out of the country, whom he's giving it too, and maybe even prevent some of the transactions from occurring."

"And you want me to spy on him? Christ."

"Miss Kendall, you have no idea what a help it would be to, well, the whole country, really."

"How many people know?" she asked suddenly. "About him, I mean."

"He has quite a large network, Miss Kendall. We were actually a little surprised that he didn't ask you to help him out. Let's see" he sifted through the papers in the bulging file "this should give you an idea." He took out a stack of photographs held together with a paper clip. Most of them were obviously candid snapshots that had been blown up. She flipped through them and noticed a few familiar faces. People he had introduced to her as friends of his, men they'd had dinner with during his business trips, Leonard, of course, Anna his part-time housekeeper, and even Claire and Mandy. The Professor obviously saw her expression.

"Yes, they've been a great help to him over the years, pretending to be his wife and child on various assignments. Let Doctor Freud say about that what he will."

Eve sat back on the couch, biting the inside of her lip and digging her fingernails into her palm.

"Now, Miss Kendall, we're not asking you to make up your mind right away. If you do decide to cooperate, just call us at this number." He slid a piece of paper toward her, which she automatically put in her purse. "And I won't pretend this is going to be easy work. We've already lost two agents, both with a lot more experience than you have."

"Did Philip…"

"Well, it was either him or that Leonard fellow, and surely you've noticed that Leonard won't sneeze without Vandamm's permission."

"What happened?"

"Well, one was shot through the forehead and was found in the river. The other's body hasn't shown up yet."

"Oh." She tapped her cigarette, happy to get ash on the off-white carpet beneath her feet. "Tell me, Professor, what is there to prevent me from going home after all of this is over and telling Philip everything?"

The small man spread his hands "nothing whatsoever. He knows that there are men after him. The two of you might come up with a way to lead us on some wild goose chase, but then we would know not to trust you, and we would continue to track him down."

"Then, why should I do this?"

"Because, Eve, I think you are a fundamentally good person. Deep down you know that you would rather see one man go to jail, no matter what your feelings for him, than to potentially see millions of people die."

"Millions, professor?"

"There are certain types of weapons which make that estimate seem conservative, and the plans wouldn't necessarily be harder to smuggle than anything else."

"I'll think about it."

"That is all we ask. And please," he added as she rose from the couch, "I would advise you not to call Vandamm today. It may impair your judgment."

"I'll keep that in mind."

She walked out of the room, her legs shaking so much that she wasn't sure if she could make it out of the building.

"Would you like us to drive you home, ma'am" asked the burley agent.

"No, thank you." If there was one thing she did not want, it was another second with one of them. She lit a second cigarette as she walked outside. Her boredom at Philip's absence had impelled her to finish her work early, so she took the time to walk home, attempting to sort out everything that had happened to her. She stopped at a restaurant for lunch, but couldn't remember what she had ordered five minutes after finishing it. As her eyes started filling with tears for the second time that day, she found herself wanting Philip with her. It was a mental reflex that she had grown used to during the last few months; whenever she felt the slightest bit sad, angry, or scared, Philip was there to comfort her.

At first it had seemed impossible that her Philip could be a spy. She loved him. More than that, she had trusted him. Not only had she been physically vulnerable to him countless times, but she had told him things about herself that no one else knew about. As she walked, however, she realized that there was absolutely no evidence that he wasn't a spy. He was always so vague in talking about his work that his having a normal job seemed out of the question, once she thought about it. There were also his friends. Leonard was strange enough; he _seemed_ like a communist spy, and she had heard a few Russian accents among some of his "business partners". She hadn't thought anything of it at the time, and had just assumed that Philip was very cosmopolitan in his choice of friends. It made her sick to realize what those business meetings actually were and that everything he had bought her came from his dealings with communists. The evidence had been there; she had just been too stupid and in love not to realize it. She felt her blood run cold as she remembered what else the Professor had said. In his office, she had been too nervous for anything to set in, but out in the sun, it was all she could think about.

Philip was a murderer.

There was no way she could justify that, no matter what her feelings for him had been. She contemplated simply breaking up with him and erasing everything from her mind as well as she could, but then she realized what she had to do. She and Philip could never go back to normal, and it would be almost selfish of her to break up with him and not help the Professor. She knew that there was going to be danger involved, but it would be worth it. Throughout her whole life, she had never made one sacrifice for another person, had never even done anything worthwhile. She knew she wouldn't be able to live with herself unless she made the right decision.

When she reached her apartment, the first thing she did was pick up the phone and take out the Professor's number from her purse.

" Hello, Professor."

"Hello, Miss Kendall. Have you reached a decision so soon?"

"Yes. I'll do it."


	8. Chapter 8

She hung up the phone and sat in silence for a few minutes. The Professor's instructions hadn't been complicated. She had been able to help him during that phone call, giving him the names and descriptions of everyone she could remember having post-business lunches with during her trips with Philip. He was even going to leave clues directing Vandamm to an imaginary agent so that he wouldn't suspect Eve. It was almost embarrassing the way she had let herself become part of their ready-made plan. She had also agreed to meet with him again once Philip arrived back home. Until then, there was nothing she could do.

She lay in bed, alternating between trying to read and trying to watch television. Nearly everything in her apartment reminded her of Philip. She remembered when he bought her not only the dress she was wearing, but nearly half the dresses in her closet, not counting the ones Claire had helped her pick out when the two of them went shopping on their own. She remembered telling him about the book she was reading, could clearly picture him lying on her couch and watching television while she finished up work on Friday nights. Even her work carried memories of him. He used to tease her by pretending to peek at her half-finished drawings, and when she was finished for the day, he would stand behind her with his hands on her shoulders as she showed off her sketch to him. And it did feel like showing off, since he always seemed awed by her talent. Finally, the memories became too much for her, and she picked up the phone and dialed the number he had given her for the hotel.

"Hello, may I speak to Mr. Philip Vandamm in room 377?"

"Yes, of course, ma'am."

As her call was directed to her room, she nearly hung up until she heard a familiar voice on the other end. She had somehow expected his voice to sound different now, but instead she was answered by the same coolly masculine voice she had fallen in love with.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Philip. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"No, darling, not at all. I just came back from a meeting about twenty minutes ago and was just in the middle of a dreadfully dull television program."

"Sounds like I called at the right time, then." It was strange how easily she could settle back into the breezy tone of voice she always had with him.

"You certainly did. And what did you do today?"

"Oh, nothing that exciting. Just a bit of shopping"

"Did you buy anything?"

"No, nothing really sang to me today."

"That's too bad. You know, I think I miss you more than usual this trip."

She laughed slightly "Philip, you say that every time you're away."

"Well, I mean it every time. What are you wearing?'

"The light green dress you bought me about a month ago."

"The one with the flowers on it?"

"That's right"

"And where are you?"

"Lying in bed."

He sighed. "I can picture you perfectly. God, I wish I could be there with you."

"In bed or in New York"

"I wish you could be here too. In bed, I mean."

"Right. Umm, do you have any plans for the rest of the day?"

Eve giggled "Did Leonard just walk in?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact."

"I'll let you go, then. I'm sure you have two have things to discuss."

"Well, I love you and can't wait to see you again."

"I love you too, Philip."

She hung up the phone and wept.


	9. Chapter 9

Eve's breath caught in her throat as she heard a familiar knock on her door. She forced herself to open before she could overthink what to do.

"Philip!" She cried, hoping her dismay would be seen as shocked delight. She had thought that seeing him would make her feel better about what she had decided to do, that she would be able to detect some inherent evilness in him. That wasn't the case, however. He looked the way he always did, his coat over his arm and his hat in his hand. She threw her arms around him and kissed him on the lips to cover up her terror.

"I didn't think I'd see you until tomorrow!"

"Yes, I know, but the flight wasn't too long and when I got in the cab, your address just sort of popped out and I let Leonard go home and unpack for me. You're not busy, are you?"

"No, come in and tell me about your trip"

"Oh, it was nothing worth talking about, really." He sat down on her couch and loosened his tie.

"Did you meet with anyone I know?"

"Yes, actually. Saul Davis was there. You'd remember him from, oh, Houston, I think it was."

She sat down with him and he put his hand on the back of her neck. She held back a shudder as she imagined his squeezing to death.

"Right, yes. He had a, um, a moustache, didn't he?"

"Yes, that's the one. Always talks about his dogs."

She giggled. "It's all coming back to me, now."

He moved in closer and she fought the urge to stand up and leave, terrified that he would somehow notice the wild beating of her heart, her sweaty palms, or the blood she could feel rushing to her face. Instead, he kissed her lips.

It felt different, but he didn't seem to notice the change.

"And how have you been, darling?"

"Oh, fine." She spread her hands. "It's all been very dull around here. I just finished my work, went out once or twice, pined away for you. It was all very tedious."

"Well, I think we should make up for that." He kissed her again, this time putting his hands on her waist. She responded to the cue and wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss at the same time. They made their way into the bedroom and he lifted her onto the bed. She lay down and tried not to think about what she was doing.


	10. Chapter 10

"Hello, professor."

Eve sat on his couch and lit a cigarette.

"Hello, Eve" God, she hated that calm, guarded voice. "Have you seen any more of Vamdamm this week?"

"Yes, we spent and last night together and he's just popped off to his apartment for a bit. We'll be meeting up again later this afternoon."

"Good, very good. Did you get any valuable information from him?"

"Sort of. He met with a man named Saul Davis, at least that's the name he goes by. I met him in Houston; he has a moustache and a dog if that helps."

"Yes, that's quite a familiar name at the agency. He's not as high powered as Vandamm, of course, but he can give and get information with the best of them."

"Is there anything else you need from me, professor?"

"As a matter of fact, there is."

"Why am I not surprised?"

The professor ignored her comment and continued.

"Miss Kendall, you have been extremely helpful to us, you know that I'm sure."

"You're welcome."

"However, information about who he meets and where doesn't give us the whole picture, if you will."

"Can't you bribe someone at the post office to read his mail and report back to you?"

"Miss Kendall _please_, we are asking you to, how shall I say it? Become part of what Mr. Vandamm does. If you could find out exactly what information he's getting and where or who he's delivering it to. In spite of the lies he's told you about his work, I have no doubt he trusts you enough to tell you everything if you press the issue hard enough."

She remained silent for a few moments, staring at her brown pumps Philip had bought for her.

"Why not? It's no worse than what I'm doing now, I suppose."

"Good girl."

She and Philip went to his apartment after dinner. She had made sure to ask to go to a place more famous for its drinks than its food, so Philip was mildly tipsy when they sat on the couch together.

"Philip?"

"Yes, dear?"

"While you were in Chicago, I realized I don't know what it is you _do_ exactly."

"Haven't we been through this?" he pleaded, gently nuzzling and kissing her neck. "Besides. I think I just swallowed some of your perfume."

"Philip, please." She put her hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him away. "Don't you trust me? You know I won't care; I love you."

"Oh, darling" he sighed and straightened his tie. "You, um, you might not love me so much in a few minutes."

She put her hand on his knee and stroked his hair. "Please, Philip."

He bit his lip and pushed her arm away and looked straight ahead.

"Well, it had to come out at some point. A few years ago, I happened to find myself in possession of some rather sensitive government materials, don't—please don't ask how, and I was contacted by the Russian government who was prepared to offer me a rather outrageous sum of money for it. And, um, I agreed. So, the transaction occurred and I've been doing it ever since."

Eve sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. "I thought it might be something like that." She had wanted to cry when he told her, to add an extra touch of authenticity, and the tears came easily.

He smiled slightly "What tipped you off?"

"I don't know. You had me fooled at first, but I just have a naturally suspicious mind. I didn't think it was possible for someone to make so much money in a government job. First I thought you might be a drug dealer or some sort of black market seller, but then you wouldn't leave New York all the time with just your light little briefcase and it's not likely you'd be this rich. So, then I realized you must have something really valuable that you're giving to someone who can pay you handsomely for it. It really wasn't too big a leap from there. I—this doesn't change how I feel about you"

He smiled again and squeezed her hand. "I know I should have told you sooner, but by the time I realized how much I…enjoyed being with you, I thought it was too late."

She took a deep breath, glad that her shaky voice wasn't out of place considering the situation. "Philip, I want to help you."

"No" he replied with a little laugh. "No, darling. Your devotion is really very touching, but I can't let you do it. If they ever caught you, there would certainly be consequences. You mean too much to me, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you."

"But aren't I already in danger, being your girlfriend?"

"No. I assure you, neither government has reached that level of shamefulness yet. I'm sure they assume you don't know anything. If you were to help me, though, you could be arrested. They could make sure you never get a job or place to live in this country again. They'd certainly try to bribe you, which is another reason I don't want you helping me."

"Philip, do you really think I can be bought like that?"

"I was."

"Philip, that's different. I _love_ you. You're not even American, so of course you wouldn't have been bothered by um…"

"'Betraying' is the word you're looking for, dear."

"All right. Betraying America wouldn't have mattered so much to you, and why should it? I love you, though, and I could never do that to you. You know that." It had been convincing and she knew it by the look on his face.

"Well, let's not make any decisions right away. I just finished handing off a shipment, so I won't be needed again for awhile."

"You'll think about it?"

"Yes, I will think about it. I really don't see why you want to, though. You've been on trips with me before, and I promise you, the transaction itself is little more than meeting up with a stranger in a seedy part of town and swapping briefcases.

She sighed. "I don't know, I just feel as though you'd be safer with me there and I can't imagine staying home now; I'd be panicked about you every second you were away. If something's going to happen to you, I want to be there."

He laughed again, which made Eve feel even more confident than before. "Darling, let me be perfectly clear, I am in no danger whatsoever. If I should be caught, I have no compunction about telling the government everything I know, in return for some protection. From what I hear, they are remarkably agreeable about that kind of thing. And besides, I don't know very much at all, just the names of a few contacts, which could be aliases, and when I do get a good look at blueprints or the like, I can never make sense of the damn things." He kissed her neck and she pushed him away, holding him back at arm's length.

"Then if it's so safe, you should take me along."

"I told you I would think about it. Don't make me change my mind."

She dropped her arm and he leaned in, kissing her firmly on the lips.


	11. Chapter 11

"Well, darling" he announced two weeks later "I believe you've got your wish. It seems I've been called upon to go to Pittsburg in three days. I told them that I might have another person with me, so they won't be suspicious if you're there too. If you want to go, that is. I'm sorry it has to be Pittsburg."

"No, that's all right. What are you delivering?"

"Umm…" he unfolded a piece of paper in his hand "_Caring for your Cockatoo_ by Allison Thompson, fourth edition. I gather the necessary information is hidden inside somehow. Either that or the communists are planning to start up an army of birds."

"That is just about the only possibility America hasn't taken into account. May I come too?"

He sighed. "I don't see why not."

With a smile, she needlessly straightened his tie before giving him a peck on the lips.

Leonard drove them to the bookstore, clearly unhappy with Eve's presence in the car. She ignored him as best she could and instead, talked to Philip.

"So, how does classified material get into a bird book, then get into Russia? It seems overly complicated to me."

"It does, rather, but having a lot of people involved makes it more difficult for the government to track down." He sat up in his chair and began gesticulating, something he never did unless he was talking about art or the price of gasoline. "So you see, what happens is some extraordinarily daring person gets information from the US government. It could be a crooked official, an official's crooked lover, a janitor, or even an outright thief. So, this person contacts me, or I contact them if they have something I know the Russians will want, and we do a bit of negotiation. Then I contact Russia and _we _negotiate. So, the person with the information and I come up with a way of delivering it to me, like their putting the information in a bird book or in the soles of some shoes. Then after I pick it up, I fly out to bloody Pittsburg and deliver it to the Russian contact, where I get paid nicely. Then finally I come back and give the proper amount of money to the original person."

"Has anything ever gone wrong before?"

"No, not from my end, anyway. And since I get paid no matter what, I frankly don't care. And it looks like we have arrived." He consulted the piece of paper again. "Thank you, Leonard." He got out of the car and Eve followed him before he could refuse at the last minute. They walked into the store together and waited in line. She rested her head against his shoulder as they stood in a tense silence before they reached the front desk.

"May I help you, sir?" inquired the thin young man behind the counter.

"Yes, my name is Philip Vandamm and I requested a book to be put on hold for me a little while ago. _Caring for your Cockatoo._"

"Oh, yes sir. Just a moment." The young man disappeared into a back room and emerged with the brightly colored volume. "That'll be a dollar fifty, sir. Anything else?"

"No, thank you." Philip handed him the money as the boy rang up the purchase.

"Good choice, they're supposed to be very friendly. Are you thinking of getting one or two? I heard they can get lonely if they're by themselves."

"Don't worry, we're getting two for exactly that reason." Philip dropped his fifty cents change in the small tip jar. "Have a nice day."

"Oh, you too, sir!"

Eve and Philip walked out of the store and into the car, their bodies noticeably more relaxed.

"Did everything go well, sir?" Leonard asked.

"Yes, half of our job is officially completed."

"It never gets easier, unfortunately" he admitted to Eve, taking the book out of the bag and flipping the pages. "Oh, that's interesting."

"What is it?" Eve leaned in, trying to scan the page for any information that could be useful to the Professor.

"Apparently you should change the toys in their cage every few weeks to prevent them from becoming bored, but you shouldn't take away their favorite toy or else they'll become stressed." He put his arm around Eve. "Maybe we should get a pair of cockatoos. They sound absolutely delightful."

"I'm sure, but do we know the _information_ is in there? I don't see anything."

"No, people can be quite clever." He lightly tapped the front cover of the book, then the back. "There, did you hear that?"

"No."

He held the book closer to her ear and gently flicked the covers once more, and this time she could hear a slight difference.

"So, they took out part of the cardboard and replaced it with the papers? Oh, that's marvelous!" She laughed in spite of herself. "You have no idea what's in there, though?"

"None, I'm afraid. Probably some scientific formula or blueprint. Maybe you would have some luck deciphering it all, but unless you're planning on building a new type of bomb any time soon, I doubt it would be of any real use to you." He noticed her face darken for a split second and he quickly added "Or it could be Eisenhower's old report cards, for all we know."

"Maybe it's the Coca-Cola formula" she played along. "I think they want to sell their own version so they won't have to admit that America can do something better than they can." She nestled her head against his shoulder and he put his hand on her thigh.

"You free the rest of the day?"

She nodded. "Would you like to take me out somewhere?"

"Yes, I think you should have one last Coca-Cola before the communists get their hands on it. Leonard can drop us off, then we can walk back home."

They ate in a department store restaurant and he took her shopping afterwards.

"I am not going to buy anything, though" she warned him as they made their way to the women's clothing section.

"I know, but there isn't any harm in looking, is there?"

"No, I suppose you're right."

She began looking at the dresses on display and soon her eyes fell on a light orange dress. It had a plunging neckline and short sleeves, along with a belt and jacket to go with it.

"Oh, that's lovely."

"Philip, no"

"Just try it on."

"Philip, I don't need any more clothes."

"Oh, please. It would make me so happy to see you in it."

"All right. I'll _try_ it."

She put the dress on, prepared to hate it. Spying on the man she used to love was one thing, but continuing to spend his money was another. Her mind reeled trying to estimate how much he had bought her for during their time together. Aside from all the gifts he had given her, he had paid her rent for the last six months, took her out to eat every time they saw each other, and always paid for her movie, play, and museum tickets. He must have spent five hundred dollars on her birthday presents alone. She emerged from the dressing room a few moments later, and had to admit to herself that the dress made her look stunning. It emphasized every part of her that she liked, and the bold color made her look less pale. Vibrant, compact, sexy, she was her own ideal product.

Philip clearly agreed with her and bought it, ignoring her protestations.

"It just makes me a little uncomfortable" she confessed as they walked back to his apartment.

"Why, because of what I do?"

"No, it's not that. I just—I don't like the feeling that you're giving me so much and I'm not giving you anything in return, or that I'm a sort of prostitute."

"Rubbish. I don't need you to give me anything in return. It's not as though I'm exchanging money for sex; that's something we both do out of affection, but I can offer you any financial support you may need, and I know you would do the same if our positions were the reverse. And aside from anything else, I love seeing you happy and I love seeing you in pretty clothes. Is that a bad thing?"

"Well no, but it's just—it's just not how I was raised."

"Would it be a problem if we were married?"

Eve felt her blood freeze. "No. I suppose not."

"Then since it's not the wisest idea to get married any time soon," Eve felt her blood and her heart rate return to normal. "I want you to have all the benefits of marriage now."

"That's very nice of you, but you know you don't have to."

"I know, but I want to. Now, you know what else would make me happy?" he purred.

"No, what?"

"Splitting a piece of cake with you at Napier's"

"I like the sound of that too. Then, um, maybe we could go back to your apartment and burn the calories."

"I think that's a splendid idea." He put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder.


	12. Chapter 12

They went to Pittsburg two days later, in the private plane, as always. She had told The Professor everything she knew about the trip the day before. She still trusted Philip to respect her privacy, but she knew that Leonard would have no problem putting a bug in her room. As a result, all calls to The Professor we made from the pay phone outside her office building. The friends she had there teased her about it, either joking that she was cheating on Philip, or so in love with Philip that she couldn't go a whole day without speaking to him.

During the flight, Philip crouched down in front of her and put his hands on the armrests of her chair. She looked up from her book with a practiced look of calm puzzlement on her face.

"Eve, if you want to come with me, there's something you need to have."

He fished in his coat pocket and pulled out a small gun. She automatically recoiled from it and shook her head. "Oh no. No, no. I-I can't."

"Dealing, please. I am not taking you along with me to carry out an assassination; I just want to make sure you're safe. Do you know how to use it?"

She nodded.

"Good. Now, you can just keep it in your purse while we—carry out business, and you will never have to see it any other time. I'll keep it for you, if you like, but I can't take you with me today unless you have it."

"All right. Is it loaded?"

"Of course it's loaded. I'm not going to let the girl I love defend herself with nothing but an unloaded gun."

"Well, thank you." She slipped it into her purse. She hated guns, but realized bitterly that having one on hand would be useful in case Philip ever did find out what she was up to.

The transaction took place the day they arrived. Eve, Philip, and Leonard walked side by side for a few blocks. As always, Leonard didn't want her along, complaining that as Philip's bodyguard, his job was now twice as difficult with two people to protect. Philip ignored his protests, though, and the three of them came upon the address Philip had received mere minutes before they left the hotel. It was a club with high ceilings and an art deco style interior.

"Check your coats?" Asked the tiny girl by the front entrance.

"Yes, thank you." The trio set about unbuttoning and handed her their coats.

"And your briefcase, sir?"

"Marvelous, thanks." Eve watched as he handed over his briefcase containing the precious cockatoo book.

"Okay. Your number's twenty-four"

"Perfect, that's my lucky number."

"Right, sir. Have a good time."

Eve gaped at Philip as they walked towards the main bar. Careful to not be overheard, she whispered "Is _she_ the-"

Philip gave a tiny nod and before putting his arm around her shoulder.

"You're still the prettiest spy this side of the Atlantic." He murmured in her ear. They each had a few drinks at the bar, then went on the dance floor. She and Philip were still abysmal dancers, but they had made some slight progress in that they no longer stepped on each other's toes. They stayed for an hour and a half, in order to avoid suspicion, and on the way out, Philip handed the coat check girl, a different one this time, his number card. She returned with a black briefcase that was completely identical to the one he had given. Philip tipped the new girl, and they walked back wordlessly, Leonard with his hand caressing his gun the entire time.

When they arrived at the hotel room, Philip tossed the bag onto his bed and opened it reverently. Inside it was more money than Eve had ever seen in her life. Each of the many stacks of hundred dollar bills could have lasted her for years. She could see everything she had ever wanted looking at her from that suitcase; vacations, countless records and books, every dress she had ever looked at, a car for each day of the week, dinner and lunch at a restaurant every day, a glorious, white wedding. She reached out and ran her fingers along the vast expanse of money.

"It's a beautiful sight, isn't it?" Philip murmured, kissing her cheek.

Eve nodded as Philip closed the lid. "Don't forget, half of it goes to our cockatoo loving friend, and I thought we'd divide the rest of it between the three of us.

"Philip, don't be silly. What did I do to deserve a cent?"

"Well, darling you gave me a good cover. I would have looked damned strange going to a bar with Leonard and dancing with him for an hour."

"Sir" the aforementioned Leonard ventured "I was thinking of going back to my room now; is there anything else you need from me?"

"No, Leonard, goodnight."

"Goodnight, sir"

"Now, I think you deserve just as much as Leonard does." Philip said once Leonard had left and was out of earshot. "More, in fact. He just makes me look suspicious." He picked up one of the stacks of bills and lightly rubbed it against her chin.

She gave a small sigh, which turned into a giggle. "If you really want to, I guess it would be rude for me to refuse."

"Good girl." He tossed the money back into the suitcase and kissed her deeply. It was better than it had been for a long time.


	13. Chapter 13

Eve met with The Professor the day after she got back to New York. She told him everything that had happened, but neglected to mention her share of the profits. Claire and Mandy were enchanted when they found out that Eve had become "one of them", and Valerian and Licht were visibly more relaxed around her.

Two other trips followed. Eve had to pass up a visit to Detroit because of a work deadline, but she was able to go to Boston with Philip. The effortless transaction took place just a few blocks from his townhouse, and the rest of the day was spent exploring the city. They visited Mandy at Simmons College and even got to watch her basketball team win against Wellesley.

When they got back to the townhouse, Philip made a few calls and talked something over with Leonard as Eve curled up in am armchair and flipped through the fashion magazines she had brought with her. When Philip emerged from the back room, he told her something she hadn't expected to hear for at least a few more months.

"Darling, I'm not sure if you should come with me on another trip. I think I'm being followed. I hadn't realized they were quite so hot on my trail, so to speak, and I would much rather they only arrest one of us."

He sounded so calm, so unruffled, that Eve had a hard time believing he wasn't somehow trying to trap her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes" he sat down in the chair across from hers and talked quickly, his favorite strategy for telling bad news. "Needless to say, the Russians are rather invested in my safety, so they always check up on the hotels nearby, and it seems as though a Mr. George Kaplin was at a neighboring hotel in Pittsburg, the same hotel I stayed at in Detroit, and is currently staying at a hotel right across the Commons."

"I-I see. What are you going to do?"

"Leonard suggested I confront him now, but I think I had better wait. He has a reservation for the Plaza in a few days, so I would rather deal with him in New York. Besides, It'll give me more time to think about what to do."

"That makes sense." She shifted her position and wondered how The Professor was going to handle the current situation, and, more importantly, what Philip would do when he realized that Kaplin did not exist. Surely the discovery would raise his suspicions and he would wonder just who the government was trying to protect.

"Oh, don't worry, dear" he interrupted her thoughts. "I'll take care of it as soon as I can."

"How?" The bluntness of her question surprised both of them.

He sighed. "Well, once I find him, I'll ask him a few questions. If he answers them satisfactorily, which he will if he has any common sense, then I'll let him go and we can forget the whole thing."

"And what if he doesn't?"

"For god's sake, don't do this to me." Philip snapped back. He calmed down after a moment and reached over and patted her leg in a silent apology. "Where would you like to go for dinner?"


	14. Chapter 14

Eve wasn't able to see Philip again for another two weeks. Her boss had hinted at a promotion if she worked hard enough, so, knowing that her time having unlimited finances from Philip was finite, she worked overtime and weekends.

On Saturday morning, she bought a copy of the newspaper and glanced at the headline as she walked to her favorite coffee shop. "Diplomat Slain at U.N." proclaimed the paper, accompanied by a picture of a dark-haired man brandishing a knife. She got one sentence into the article before she slowed down. Lester Townsend was the dead man's name. It sounded familiar and took her a minute to realize why. He had been a friend of Philip's. He lived in a large, secluded house, which Philip often borrowed to do dirty work and throw parties. Without thinking, she rushed to a pay phone and called Philip. He sounded tenser than she had ever heard him before.

"You have no idea how glad I am that you've called."

"Philip, I read the paper; what happened?"

"It wasn't supposed to happen. Valerian made a mistake and got Townsend instead. There's no time to explain it fully, but there's something I need you to do for me."

"I'll do anyth-"

"No, you haven't heard it yet. Just…just listen."

"Go on."

"Kaplan got away, and he's on his guard. We lost him at the U.N., but we know he's going to Chicago today. He had reservations at a hotel and he's probably desperate to leave the city at this point. Now, he already knows Leonard, Valerian, Licht, Claire, and me at this point, but he doesn't know you. There's a train leaving to Chicago in three hours, and according to our records, he prefers trains to flying, so it's reasonable to assume-"

"I'll be there?"

She heard him sigh with relief. "Good girl. And you don't have to worry about anything, I took the liberty of buying you a ticket earlier this morning, and Leonard and I will be in another car in case you need us."

"What do I have to do?"

"Your job is very easy; all you have to do is get on that train and befriend him.

Get information if you can, but the important thing is for you to keep track of him without following him. He'll be on the lookout for that now. He's very sneaky, so try not to let him out of your sight, even, well, even at night."

"Do you want me to sleep with him?"

He sighed, but not with relief this time. "Unless you can think of something better."

"That's all right. Is he the one on the cover of the paper?"

"Yes, that's the one."

She looked at the picture again. "I could do worse, I suppose."

He laughed. "Good, I thought he was your type, just don't get too attached to him. I'll find a way to keep you informed as we go along."

"Okay" she paused for a second before hanging up. "Philip?"  
"Yes, dear?"

"Be careful."

"You too, darling."

With that, she hung up the phone and walked away.


End file.
